my mother tells me i'm an old soul.
she always has.
maybe it is for that reason -- for being an old soul -- that i am only 20, and i feel like my life has passed me by. as if my non-existent opportunities for love have determined that the remainder of my life will be lived out in loneliness. as kate, my previously-mentioned close friend, would say, "20. oh wow. you're so old. seriously? you're still a teenager." to which i respond, "20 means i am done serving time in the teens. and if you average out my intellectual age and my actual age, i'm in my 40s, at least." what. i am. at least, i feel like it.
i have trust issues. i will put that out there, to be either scrutinized or pondered by the two or three people who may ever read this. i put my heart and soul into each relationship i am in. people at work, people in my classes, the people with whom i am friends, the people to whom i am related. and anyone else i may not have covered in that description. i give my unwavering loyalty, and my listening ear, and my uncanny ability to talk about nothing for hours upon end. i give my concern. my empathy. my energy. to you. that is the person that i am. that is the person i have always been.
"where do the trust issues come in, then?" you may ask. here. enter self-sabotage, stage left. once i am connected with another human being, i fret and stress and secretly freak out about whether that person thinks i am a worthwhile person. about whether that person is going to suddenly decide to abandon me. (i also have abandonment issues.) paranoia sets in. and i drive away the people i love. i pull back. i welcome their openness to me, and embrace it, and return it with shyness or enigma. people in whom i had previously invested all my emotions.
i've been struggling with various forms of depression and anxiety since i was...8 years old. no, that isn't a diagnosis from a medical professional -- that's my being honest, and self-aware. with each year, the anxiety intensifies and the depression deepens. i'm always at rock-bottom. and then i find myself lower. and lower. and lower. and now i'm making a decision to do whatever it takes to not end up lower than where i am at now.
today -- though it be friday, is still thursday, for i have not yet slept -- i cried four times. once, this afternoon, after my first class. once, just before work. once, when i was working. once, for an hour, as i watched episodes of tv shows after work.
i had a panic attack. the fifth this week. i almost had a second one, and would have, if kate had not been there to divert my anxiety.
and what is it that i panic about? what is it that has me stressed? is it my homework load? is it my messy room? is it whether my tables at work are as clean as they should be? no. no, dear whoever-you-are, it is people. i panic about people. about disappointing people. about letting them down. people i don't know. people i do. anyone. everyone. it doesn't really matter. i panic. and then i feel pathetic. and then i get depressed. and cry. and pull away. and blame myself for things i cannot control.
and stay up too late, which results in me sleeping too much.
and punish myself, by spending money i don't have, and subsisting on rotations of either takeout or granola bars -- dependent upon the day.
and, to this, my body reacts by shutting down. and inflicting upon me stop signs in the form of migraines, excessive weight gain, sudden weight loss, periods that last for 15 days, breakouts, hair loss, and perpetual fatigue.
so, to my body, i say: my soul is old. but you are young. and though my thoughts are frequently occupied with the fear of losing those i love, i will not lose myself. and i will learn to love you, to bridge the gap between you and my mind, in which i currently live. and we will all be at home within you. mind, soul, body. because there are years left to live.
miles to go before i sleep.
bye for now.